


Celebrating 200 Followers

by therunawaypen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Meta, Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 14:43:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To celebrate 200 followers on Tumblr, I decided to have all the fandoms I've taken prompts for to meet in one place.</p><p>Plus, I made dessert!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Celebrating 200 Followers

**Author's Note:**

> "CONGRATULATIONS ON 200 FOLLOWERS! You deserve every one. To celebrate you should just do a big orgy of fandoms! Kidding… but maybe if you’re looking to write something to celebrate though, you could just do one nice crossover between all the fandoms you’ve written for so far. So very challenging, but so very fun." —davidtennant-is-my-spiritanimal

“Where the hell are we?” Dean looked around, itching for his shotgun or, better yet, the Colt.

Sam shook his head, rubbing his temples, “Dean, does it look like I have a clue? For all I know, we could have gotten ourselves killed again and we’re back in Heaven.”

It certainly fit the bill for something that would pass as Heaven. The room was white, with several large windows that seemed to reveal nothing about the outside world, but was letting in plenty of sunshine.

“No, this is not the Heavenly plane.” Cas replied, “Though we are no longer on Earth.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Well that helps us out.”

“He was more helpful than you.” Sam grumbled, walking further into the room. “And we aren’t alone.”

Sure enough, as the three made their way further into the room (house? dimension?), they could see several people already making themselves comfortable. On one of the couches, a messy-haired teen sat beside two older men, one of whom was covered in scars and bouncing a small child on his knee while the other seemed to be making faces at the child.

There were two love seats positioned on either side of a large coffee table, both of which were full. A gray-haired man currently had his arm around the waist of a posh looking man with a smug look on his face. Across from them, a blonde sat next to a taller man with dark curls. The blond was doing his best to look relaxed, though he kept fidgeting.

The three hunters could also see a young man sitting in an armchair, sipping a cup of tea slowly. A taller man in a suit was standing at his side, watching them all with a calculating eye.

“Ah, the Americans have arrived.” Sherlock drawled, “I was beginning to get bored.”

“You’re always bored, Sherlock.” John chuckled, standing to greet the Hunters, “Name’s John Watson. Welcome.” He stuck out his hand, smiling warmly.

Dean looked at the hand warily, but Sam reached out and shook the army doctor’s hand, “Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean and…Castiel.”

Cas nodded, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Watson.”

John stopped, staring at Cas. On the couch opposite to them, Mycroft smirked, taking a sip of his tea.  

Sam bit back a groan, “Right…so much for a good first impression.”

Harry chuckled, “Oh don’t worry about it, you made a better impression than Sherlock here.” He smiled softly.

Dean snorted, “Right…any idea where the hell we are?”

From his armchair, Q took a drink of his tea, “Well we seem to be somewhere outside the realm of our own respective reality.”

Mycroft and Sherlock nodded, as if the explanation made perfect sense.

Dean, however, was not amused, “You wanna run that one by me again, poindexter?”

“I do believe he spoke quite clearly the first time.” Mycroft drawled, “And unless you have another explanation for members of MI6, a consulting detective and his colleague, not to mention a lycanthrope and his family of wizards to exist in the same place as…you?”

“Eliminate the impossible, and what remains, however unlikely, must be true.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Do keep up.”

Sam blinked, “Wait, lycanthrope…there’s a werewolf here?”

“Of course, Sam.” Cas nodded, “He’s been playing quite nice with his child over there.”

Dean swore, “Where is my fucking gun?”

“You will not be shooting any of my guests, Dean Winchester!”

The hunters looked up, startled by the new voice. There was a woman walking out of the kitchen (or at least it looked like she had come from the kitchen, judging by the fact she was carrying a tray with three mugs on it and was wearing a blue apron), smiling brightly at all of them.

She stopped in front of the werewolf and his companions, “Sorry it took me so long to make the Butterbeer, I had trouble finding a good recipe on Pinterest.”

Remus chuckled, taking a mug, “I’m sure it’ll be just fine.”

Harry smiled softly, taking his own mug, “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”

The woman shook her head, blonde waves bouncing slightly, “Oh no! I’ve got everything Harry, don’t you worry.” She smiled, “And Remus, don’t worry, I won’t let them kill you. And Sirius…don’t make a mess of things.”

Sirius grinned, “I’ll be a complete angel.”

“We already have an angel.” She laughed lightly, turning to the hunters, “It’s so nice of you to finally come! Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Besides a bottle of Jack?” Dean muttered.

The woman’s smile faltered slightly, “I don’t drink, Dean…would you like a soda?”

Grumbling, Dean nodded, “Coke, if you got it.”

Sam and Cas muttered something along the same lines, not really caring one way or another.

Her smile returned full force, “Wonderful!” She happily returned to the kitchen.

Sam looked at the British company before him, “Who was that?”

“More importantly, why the hell is she the only woman here?” Dean crossed his arms.

Sherlock look amused, “Why would you care about if there were more women here? You’re in a loving relationship with…Cas, did you say his name was?”

Dean turned red at the comment, from embarrassment and indignation, no doubt.

“As to who that was.” Q chuckled, finishing his tea, “That is our host, Erin.”

“We wouldn’t expect you to know much, since you’re new to this party.” James nodded, “But the rest of us have been here for quite some time, so we’ve gotten to know her somewhat.”

Harry nodded, “I met her a _long_ time ago, and she only recently invited us back here.” He chuckled, taking a sip of his Butterbeer, “When Sirius, Remus and I got here, with Teddy, there were a bunch of other werewolves here too…I think they wandered off though…”

“So…what is she? Pagan god, Djinn?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“So help me, if she’s another Trickster, I am going to go postal.” Dean growled in agitation.

Greg shook his head, “She’s a writer.”

Cas nodded,  as if he understood what was being said. “I take it she called us here for something?”

“Celebrating, actually.” John nodded, “Said something about hitting a milestone.”

“But you actually aren’t the last guests to arrive.” Sirius smirked.

Dean blinked, “Well who the hell are we waiting for?”

Mycroft held up a hand, signaling for them to wait. There was a moment where the room was quiet, only the sounds of the child on Remus’s knee were heard.

Then.

“What the hell? Did we get warped to another dimension again?”

“Tony, you are not helping.”

Sam sighed, “Well at least we aren’t the only ones confused…”

“Steve! Tony! You finally made it!” Erin was back, holding cans of Coke, “I was beginning to think you had gotten lost!”

Steve cleared his throat, “Um, I’m sorry ma’am, but where are we?”

She smiled, blue eyes sparkling, “My world, of course.” She turned, handing the cans of coke to the Hunters, “Now that everyone is here, we can finally start celebrating!”

In an instant, the casual setting of the living room became lavishly decorated for a party, with long tables set up with a wide variety of foods.

“Hold up, if you could have done that at any time,” James frowned, “Then why the hell you have been in the kitchen all this time?”

Erin frowned, “I like baking, even if I can’t eat the food.”

Sherlock nodded, “Gluten intolerance. An unfortunate fate for a lover of baked goods.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “This is getting weird, huh Dean.” He looked to his side, only to find Dean gone, “Dean?”

“There’s pie!”

Well that explained where Dean was.

Steve and Tony, bless their hearts, were still a little shook up. Greg took pity on them, “Come on, you two, I’ll explain while we eat.”

There really was a wide variety of desserts on the table (though Dean had taken to hording all the pies). What was really stunning was the large cake in the center of the table.

“It took me a while to make this,” Erin nodded, “But it was worth it!”

Pieces of the cake suddenly began to come away from the cake, putting themselves on plates and getting forks before flying out the large open windows.

“And now we have flying cake.” Tony shook his head, “I really need a drink.”

“You’re out of luck there, man.” Dean shook his head, “Writer chick doesn’t drink.”

Erin laughed, “Oh Dean, the things I do with my writing are strange enough…do you really want me to try and do it _drunk?_ ” She laughed, sending out one last piece of cake, “That might not end well for you.”

“So…where exactly is all that cake going?” John asked, curious.

“To my lovely followers,” She nodded, “I just got 200, I’m very excited.”

Steve blinked, “Wait, followers?”

“Only 200?” Tony chuckled.

Erin shook her head, “Don’t look down on the followers, Tony. I may be the writer…but they’re the ones who tell me what to do with you.”


End file.
